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Thursday, January 16, 2014

Vella Munn's Touch of the Wolf (+Giveaway)

Blurb: Family.
Abandoned as a child, Winter Barstow is a woman without a family
history and with few clues to lead her in the right direction. When a
stolen artifact from the Olympic National Forest arrives at her door,
Winter travels to the remote outpost in Washington in search of who sent
it to her and why. Instead of answers, she finds the handsome, yet
moody Forest Ranger Jay Raven hiding from his heritage.

Freedom.
Jay’s attraction to Winter is instantaneous, and powerful. To admit
it, however, means Jay must recognize a culture he’s left
behind—something he’s not willing to do. But when Winter discovers the
body of her college mentor, her life is in danger and only the call of
the wolf can lead Jay to her side and back to his Native American ways.

And a love strong enough to offer both.
As Winter continues her search for the thieves, she becomes a target
for killers. Now Winter and Jay must embrace their heritage and the
spirit of the wolf to save Winter’s life, as well as the love that has
brought them home.

Excerpt: “Peace and renewal. That is what Cha’lak’at’sit has always meant to
the Chalat. The river was a gift from K’wati, who intended it to provide
for our people. Whatever we decide now must be done with traditional
Hoh belief in mind.”

Jay Raven rubbed his aching right shoulder, doing his best to pay
attention to his uncle. At thirty, Jay was in the best shape of his
life, but that didn’t mean he was Superman. “I knew he’d say that,” he
whispered to his brother, who stood next to him on the banks of the
Cha’lak’at’sit—or as the non-Natives called it, the Hoh River—near where
it fed into the Pacifi c Ocean in Western Washington. “Our uncle and
the rest of the elders will always see everything in the context of the
past.”

Floyd jerked his head at the cedar canoe they’d pulled onto the
gravel shore after bringing their uncle to where the Narrow Roaring
Creek stretch began. “They’re going to be at this for hours. At least
we’ll be moving with the river’s flow when we head back.”

So did Jay, but Uncle Talio was doing what he believed he’d been born to do.

“Seeing so many of the Chalat here today fills me with gratitude.”
Uncle Talio turned in a semicircle, connecting with the over one hundred
Hoh Native Americans who’d come for the meeting. “This shows that the
decision we’ve been asked to make means a great deal to you.” He shifted
position, leaning more of his weight on his cane. “Before I read the
request from Dr. Anthony Gilsdorf, I’ll try to make sure everyone
understands the ramifications should we decide to have anything to do
with the anthropologist.”

It had rained last night, and judging by the sodden clouds, Jay
figured another downpour wasn’t far off. He’d grown up in and around
Olympic National Forest. He didn’t quite have webbed feet, but as he’d
told the woman he’d naively thought he’d spend his life with, one reason
he’d left the Northwest rain forest was so he wouldn’t grow gills.

Leaving hadn’t lasted long, but he’d changed during those years while
the forest remained the same. A thousand years after his death, this
wet realm would endure. Ancient moss-studded Sitka spruce and western
hemlock would still rise above mats of vine maples and fern. Maybe he
should stop distancing himself from his heritage and let it absorb him
as it had his uncle and other members of the small tribe.

Only he couldn’t.

“Until whites ventured inland from the ocean,” Uncle Talio continued,
“the river and the land around it was home to us and the other tribes.
But even then our ancient way of life had been threatened by the
newcomers’ diseases. Now what remains of the Chalat live near the mouth
of the river we love, even as it slowly steals what little land we still
have.”

“Did he have to bring this up?” Floyd muttered. “That anthropologist’s request has nothing to do with erosion.”

Jay smelled booze on Floyd’s breath, but Floyd wasn’t drunk. As many times as he’d tried to get Floyd sober, he knew the signs.

When Uncle Talio was acting in his role as a tribal Old People, he
tended to sound as if he barely understood English, but just because
he’d grown up speaking Quinault didn’t mean he was cut off from the
twenty-fi rst century. He simply preferred to live in the past.

Jay’s shoulders weren’t the only part of his body that ached. His
back threatened to knot, and his knees were tender from supporting his
weight the whole time Uncle Talio, Floyd, and he had been in the canoe.
As an Olympic National Park ranger, he was accustomed to spending his
days on his feet, not struggling with the seldom-used but
well-maintained canoe.

That’s what he was, he reminded himself as Uncle Talio held up a
deerskin decorated with the tribe’s symbol of a stylized eagle and a
salmon—a forest ranger. He was proud of who he was; he just didn’t want
his heritage to define his every moment.

Author Bio: Vella Munn cut her writing teeth penning confessions. At the time she
had two preschoolers and not enough time or confidence to write
anything longer. She hit the confession wall after writing, “I Was An
Unwed Father,” and moved onto category romances. Some 30 romances for
the major romance publishers later, she dove into historicals and wrote
nine Native American historicals for Tor/Forge. Under a pen name she has
written mumble-mumble erotic romances for a variety of publishers and
self-published. The electronic publishing explosion excites her and she
sees endless possibilities. It’s a crazy exciting time for writers and
readers. A longtime member of Novelists Inc., an organization for
multi-published fiction writers, she is grateful for the knowledge,
experience, and support of fellow members.

Her favorite genre has always been romantic suspense and she’d
delighted to be part of Entangled’s Ignite line where hopefully her
out-of-the-box imagination won’t have people thinking she needs a padded
room.